This is the first time I have ever voted where there were still “I voted” stickers left for me to take! I think this is a Good Omen. I’m going to my total BFF’s house tonite for an Election Party as her husband is out in the woods for the week.

That is another Good Thing about having been left by my husband; my total BFF is RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER now. And, I love this.

The look of shock and horror on their faces is worth it almost! I like to shock and awe.

Move in day went very smoothly. I’m all in and settled. The accent walls in the kitchenette in my little “cottage” (which is what I’m making everyone refer to it as…) is Tiffany’s Box Blue and all the other walls in the cottage are a Crisp White. I. Love. It. Holden’s room is Navy Thunder Power Ranger Blue per his request. He hasn’t seen it yet as he’s with his Daddy this week, but he says he’s very excited.

I am so blessed to have this kid who is so easy breezy.

This is not the situation I’d prefer to be in, but its the situation I’m in. I’m making Lemonade, ladies. And, my does it taste sweet.

p.s.Dear Candidate,

Well? Tonites the Big Night! Are you totally psyched? I am! My fingers and toes are crossed. I’ll try to wait up till the very end!

I’m going to give you a book review here. I want to preface this review by saying, this was not a particularly well written book. It was rife with stereo-types. There was a lot of unneeded swearing. The ending was total trite.

I loved this book. I cried all throughout it. It touched me in my soul.

The book! The book! Yes, yes, I will get there, but I have to say some more stuff before I get to it.

I have a lot of women friends. I have a Best Friend Ever, a Super Good, But Could Never Be My Best Friend Ever, and then many Really Good Friends. Also, to boot, I have One Friend That I Have Never Laid Eyes On, But Who Warms My Heart With Her Faraway Friendshipyness.

I love these women. A lot. I like being friends with women. I love it. I think its unnatural for women to NOT want to be friends with other women. I find that women who say, “I just get along better with guys than girls.” are either a.)whores or b.)bitches.* Boys are for screwing; not for forming friendships with. Unless that boy is gay. If thats the case then, Duh. Good as a girlfriend, right there. And, don’t kid yourself, either. You do not have a lot of “good guy friends”. You have a lot of dudes hanging around wondering who’s gonna bone you first.

Its about women, and their friendship with each other. Its about loving yourself. Its about the love that comes with deep friendship, and this book relays that aspect without making that love seem perverted. I’m not going to sit here and tell you the plot line of this book. If you have good women friends than you should just read it.

Like I said, this isn’t the most well written novel. But, there’s a little of some of these women in us all. I would read some chapters and just cry and cry. Because it reminded me of my mother, or because I knew that Christen must have felt that way when she lost her baby, or Lou might have gone thru when she was raising her boys. It gave me a glimpse into Shawn’s divorces and one of the gals made me wonder if that is kind of how Erin is in real life (what with all the swearing…). I saw bits of me, and all my ladies in this book. And, Mel? This book is pink!

Reading Elegant Gathering made me want to have my own. Hanging out in a room full of women and wine (or beer!!) and snacks, gabbing all night long about men and sex and kids and books and politics and religion and gossiping about people behind their backs? Sounds like heaven to me.

*Um, I think you know, but my conscious is gnawing at me…I jest. Kind of. But, a little…I can’t help it if you are a whore.

I was shopping in the Walmarts today and I drooled on myself. I’m not really sure how in the hell that one happened, but it did. One minute I’m bending over to pick up some Cheezits, and the next, I’m slurping spittle back into my mouth. What’d you expect me to do? Spit on the Walmarts floor? I spit on YOU!!

I bought my Gramma one of those new Tickle Me Elmo gadgets for Christmas. It will tickle ME watching her tickle HIM! Trust me. This gift will be killer.

I also bought my mom a locket. She has bought her daughters lockets and will put her picture in them and we will get them when she’s gone. This is morbid. It makes my skin crawl, I’m not gonna lie. I didn’t really know what to buy her for Christmas. So I decided to get her a locket and put a picture that I really love of the two of us in it. I will then bury it with her. And, I also told this story to the jewelry counter girl at the Walmarts. Had she not made me stand there so long waiting for her to acknowledge me while she tried on a myriad of watches, I wouldn’t have bothered telling the story. But, she pissed me off, and I wanted to make her pay. Nothing like a little dose of death to do the trick.

The locket is silver with a pink rosy thing on it and its engraved with “forever in my heart”. I think this, also, will be a stellar gift. I’m on a roll.

And, with nothing really to segue into this: My dog really likes to dominate. If you are sitting on the couch, she will come and put her paws on either shoulder and just stand there with her chest in your face. I can’t figure out if she just wants her belly rubbed, or if she wants to play-fight. Either makes her happy.

I’ve found, recently, that she really likes it when you pretend to bite her while she is pretend biting you. So, I do it. Sure, I come out with a mouth full of dog hairs, but she’s having the effing time of her life. She play-bites my arm, I play-bite hers. Oh, and you also have to growl. But, she really doesn’t like a real sounding growl. If I really growl like her, she looks around to see what in the hell that was. She likes a fake sounding growl. So, I do it.

There is a stranger in my house, ladies. And it is large. And it is trying its damnest to impose itself upon me. It is 46 inches. And flat. And, have I mentioned that its ginormous? Because it is.

While watching this brand spanking new television, procured at 5am on Black Friday at Circuit City by my Dear BH, I think to myself, “I never realized Tyra is so enormous!” Then I realize that it could be, I mean quite possibly it is that its just the gigantitude of the television itself, and perhaps, just maybe, Ms. Banks breasts are actually NOT the size of watermelons. But they really probably are.

So now, this morning, now that everyone is gone back to work and back to school, I sit here in the computer/game room where we’ve moved the old tv into. The normal sized telly. The one that makes those models look small. Just like me. And, I’m watching that television, secretly feeling like I’m being ungreatful for the Big One. Though, in reality, having two tvs is going to be great for those Sundays when its nothing but Football. I can come in here with a clean conscious and watch replays of The Hills. Or Real World. Or Gilmore Girls. The options are endless, really. Truly a Christmas Miracle!

I was NOT ungreatful yesterday, however. We live in an older neighborhood. I love this place. It is comfortable and friendly and woodsy. Though, I do hate that its so woodsy. Especially when that means that I have to rake all the woodsy leaves. I hate raking. I also hate our behind-us-neighbor.

Last year while doing some yardwork, our lovely 102 year old neighbor, let’s just call him Bob (because that’s his name), came over to the fence to tell us that he was happy that we were out there “cleaning up this mess” because he was “sick of looking at it”. Way to make friends, Bob. He also told us that our compost was to close to his fence (we told him to get composted), and that there were some sticks in our yard touching his fence (bite us, Okay Bob).

Yesterday, oh yesterday! We were raking (ugh) and you know how leaves get all stuck up in the fence and pile up and you have to rake them without constantly getting the rake stuck in the fence? Yeah. Bob was also out in his yard and he came over to the fence. BH and I looked at each other like what now? Bob says, “Hey! I got this big blower, and how’s ’bout I blow along the fence and then that’ll blow my leaves AND your leaves out from the fence?” My jaw dropped. I put on my best I Like You smile and said, “Oh that would be great, Bob! Thank you so much!”

And, he did it. And, it was beautiful. It did actually make my job easier. Bob helped me. He did not put on his mean face and yell at us. It truly is the holidays! Christmas miracles all ’round!! I’m making that dude some snickerdoodles!!

One thing I’m NOT making these days is coffee. Okay well I am making coffee, but I’ve had to employ the boil-water-and-pour-over-grounds method, as my coffee maker decided to take a powder on Sunday morning. A day that will forever be remembered by me as The Saddest Morning Ever. At least I have coffee, though, so Christmas Miracle it is.

We put our tree up on Thanksgiving Eve, and we’ve been able to watch both Christmas Vacation AND A Christmas Story. ‘Tis the Season.

GAAAAAAAAAAD. The cable guy just left my house. I had to hold myself back from making mad passionate love to him for giving my connection to the Outer Limits back to me. Funny thing? I went to high school with the cable fixer guy. Thanks, Matt. YOU are a peach.

I don’t know where to start. Its been so long, so I’ll start now, and go backward.

FIRST GROUPING OF THOUGHTS

The conversation I had with my husband last night went something like this:

Me: Did you read that Herman Hesse book Demian?
BH: Yeah. I used to be really into Hesse (except he pronounces it right…) Didnt you ever read Sidhartha?
Me: No.
BH: REALLY????(and then he really just goes on and on about how that book is a classic, and I tell him that I didnt read a lot of the classics until I was much older, and really, I dont like the classics all that much. I even really almost HATE Dickens with all his blathering and dreariness. With this he agrees with me wholeheartedly…but STILL! How could I, an avid reader, NOT have read these books??!! Oh the agony. Oh the humanity! And, while I have all this time, I really should go to the library and read every book ever written which he considers “great”.)
Me: Yeah. I dont really like Borrowing books. Not really my style.
BH: WHAT? OMG. HOW DID I EVEN MARRY YOU? I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU HATE THE LIBRARY.
Me: Huh? I dont “hate” the library. I just…what if I LIKE the book? What if I LOVE it? I cant keep it! Id have to go buy it and then never re-read it, and there it would sit on the bookshelf unloved! Plus, I dont really like the time constraints.
BH: THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE! UNACCEPTABLE!! DEATH TO ALL TYRANTS!!!
Me: Books are like a photo album to me. The books that I keep, I can remember all parts of them, and have left a good chunk of my soul in each one. I can remember how I felt after finishing every one of those books on my bookshelf. I like that about reading. Like when I read Johnny Got His Gun for the first time…I read it in one day while I was laying in YOUR bed waiting for you to get home from class/work. I bawled. Its a keepsake.
BH: YOU ARE WEIRD! CALL A SHRINK!!!
Me: Bah.

Okay, so some of the words in this presentation have been changed to protect the innocent (i.e. me), but really. He did get all worked up because I’ve never read 1984. And, okay. I DO want to read it, I just havent yet. Cripe, buddy! Has he ever read the complete works of Shakespeare? Or just one work? Or ee cummings? Or Leaves of Grass? Yeah, no. So shove it.

SECOND GROUPING OF THOUGHTS

I AM reading Demian by Hermann Hesse right now (because I finished Killing Yourself to Live by my one and only, Chuck Klosterman. Really Chuck. Lets you and I get together…I mean, Im done with the drugs and all, but we could really be friends). And, already, Ive found a few sentences that spoke to me. They are as follows:

“I do not consider myself less ignorant than most people. I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question the stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me.”

And this immediately made me think of my own Christianity. Which is kind of funny if youve read the book, but will be completely UNfunny, if you have no background info. But its not ha-ha funny, more of a a-ha type funny.

Essentially, the above quote IS me. This is the reason why I am such a believer. And, I dont just mean God, either. I mean everything. I do still seek, but there is just so much to know, I find that if I let my soul do the walking, I learn so much more. And, thusly, can accept so much more, because my heart is open. Wide open. Thank God, too. Because I honestly do not know if I could get through all this hell with my mom if I didnt have faith.

I remember having so much more to say about that, but, I think Im done there; lest I get too verbose.

THIRD GROUPING OF THOUGHTS, MOSTLY ALL ABOUT DISNEY.

What a blast we had! Everyone always asked how my mom did. She was FINE. We wheeled her around everywhere. She road Splash Mountain, and we got in a lot of the rides a hell of a lot sooner as we, as a whole…thanks to mom, were “handicapped”. HOWEVER, my father should have had a wheelchair!

My mom and dad had to drive since her Doctors wouldn’t allow my mother to fly. Somewhere in Kentucky, Daddio took a spill. It was slippery, see. And, Dad was wearing his Crocs. Let me interrupt myself here by saying, My dad is a bit eccentric. You dont see many 60 year old men wearing Crocs. You also dont see very many 60 year old men wearing knee lenghth leather tie up moccasins either, but this does not stop my dad. See, he is part Indian (the feather kind), and he likes to “hunt silently like his People”. Thus, the mocs. And as for the Crocs? I just dont know…But anyhoodle, he fell and hurt his hip. He limped around all four Disney parks. God bless him. And, would NOT get a chair. Because (here we go again) he was sitting in my mothers chair once when she was inside a store, and “a damn vet saluted me. I was so embarrased, I dont need a damn chair with people saluting me.” Why did the damn vet salute him, you ask? How could the damn vet possibly have known that my dad was a damn vet, too? Why that is because he wears a hat with VIETNAM VETERAN on the front with every imaginable pin commemorating every MIA, POW, Purple Heart whathaveyou. Der, dad. I think youve kind of earned the right to be saluted every once in a while.

Disney really is a magical place, though. Even Big Hands had a great time. I believe the word to use is “happy”. It really gave me hope that his inner child is not as buried as I had thought he was.

Holden had fun, the cousins had fun, the Nana and the Papa had fun, the Greats had fun, the uncles and aunts had fun.

Rained every damn day, but what are ya gonna do?

THE LAST GROUPINGS OF THOUGHTS SOME OF WHICH WILL DEPRESS YOU

Ive been home for a week now. During the day. Home! The laundry is almost done which was my project for the day. The floors are shiny, the dust is dusted, the bathrooms have been sprayed. I love this staying home thing. Its the most awesomeness ever.

I am going to my moms about twice a week (or that is the plan anyway). She is getting rid of things, which is depressing if you think about it, so I choose not to. Hospice came in and we got all signed up for that. She is well, though. She is good. She is still free to roam about at her leisure. She just wont roam for very long. Or…maybe she will. Who knows. We are all just trying to do what we can. Be by her side. Take her wherever she wants to go. Talk about death for longer periods of time than we would like…whatever makes her happy.

Im just a seeker, here, trying to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me.

I’m done with my Palahniuk book, and gladly so. It started out okay, the middle was boooooring my pants off (literally. One minute I was reading, the next, my pants were down around my ankles. Disturbing? Maybe. BH rather liked it.), but the last bit made me almost cry on several different occasions. So I guess it ended up okay. I love to cry.

Now, I’m reading my dearest Chuck Klosterman again. This one. The more I read him, the more I realize why I get it. He cares about very little of what everyone else cares about. He just cares very little. Me too. Periphery; we spit in your general direction.

Mr. Klosterman (may I call you Chuck?), should you ever google yourself, and find an inordinate amount of prattle about yourself here at this little site, I just want to say, Hi. The part about Quincy, and the mowing the lawn catty corner? Yeah. I often wonder if that’s how my (now) husband felt when I told him I was pregnant. And, I think he has settled into this life quite well. And, I think he likes it pretty okay. Also, the part about D.C. and the history? Me too. Doesn’t interest me. I’d like to say I feel bad about it. But, I don’t. If you are Mr. Right Now, well, then, I’m your Missus. There’s probably lots more, but I’m only that far in the book.

Also, don’t worry. I’m entirely too lazy to track you down and stalk you. Really. Do not worry.

There’s still no internet at the BHandjen household. It is driving me mad. Okay, so its really not, but I’d like to think it would. If we go too much longer without it, I may end up insane. For now, though, it gives me time to start on all those projects I’ve promised everybody.

Would you like to know what will make you The Most Popular Person In Your House? White chocolate covered pretzels, that’s what. I made them for a movie snack for Holden and I. Big Hands was pleased as well. There you go. Don’t say I never gave you any sage advice.

Holden and I watched scary movies on Nick, or Cartoon Network. And, by scary, I mean not scary at all. Except for this one called The Haunting Hour? That shit kind of scared the crap out of me, and Holden’s all like, “Don’t worry Mom. If it gets to be too much, you just let me know. I’ve got my finger right on the ‘last’ button, and we can go back to Drake and Josh, if you get too scared.” And, just in case you are wondering, I DID make him go back to Drake and Josh. One, because I really like Josh, okay? And, two? The monster was kind of making me a little nervous. We also watched Twitches Too (or Two, I can’t really remember). That one was more dumb than scary, but he’s been waiting for it since September.

I don’t like Horror Movies, Okay? Friday the Thirteenth; never saw it. Halloween? Nope. Those Elm Street movies, not a chance. I started watching Hostel with BH one night, but within the first 15 minutes I’m watching it with my hands over my eyes, and then I heard a drill and put my thumbs in my ears, so I decided to go into the bedroom and watch Letterman.

Though, I will tell you, I love ghosts, vampires and witches. Just not as much as I love Jesus. And, definitely not the scary kind. Or the masked kind.

I DID watch every single episode of Gossip Girl on Sunday. Thank you MTV, for replaying them. I salute you. I am now hooked on this show. I have not yet checked out the CW listings to see when it plays. Hopefully it will not be on at a time when I am watching something else. This show is awesome. I know how you are looking at me. With your superiority. Please. We’re all friends here. Let’s not pretend that we are all too grown up and too smart to watch such tripe. If you say that, you are a liar.

We all hold onto some sophomoric naughty. Teen TV is mine. What’s yours? Do tell! If you say that you don’t have one, I will know that you are telling tall tales. I think the most grown up thing a gal can do is admit that she is still a child.

*********************edit******************

Gossip Girl, Wednesdays at 9pm. CW. Hollah. Can watch it right after Pushing Daisies! BH has band practice. This is God at work. (when you are me? You appreciate the small things.)

Now dear Carrie, I belong to the I Work Slowly Club. But this is what you will be receiving: a calendar!! Hand crafted! I made one for my mom last year and she loved it. This will not be your regular boring calendar…its fun. So, I’ll email you later, and get your bizness!! Congratulations CARRIE!!!

~~~~~~~~~~

In other important news, because I have missed you so much…Have you been watching Pushing Daisies on Wednesday nights??? You should be. This show is good. Its minimalistic and aesthetically pleasing. I mean, its to the point and beautiful like a dream. I love this show. You should too.

Also, I really like The Reaper on the CW. It really makes me laught. Though I will allow that I am extremely easily amused. I started watching it only because I’d heard that Kevin Smith was directing the pilot. If you are my age, you should like Kevin Smith. This is not a question I’m asking; I’m telling you. If you don’t like him, then you simply are not my age. The end.

That book by Chuck Palahniuk that I am reading is not hitting my spot. I will persevere! He did mention something about Amy Hempel, and by highlighting her name there? I am strongly suggesting that you go there and you read that short story. Its probably one of my favorite shorts. My first favorite is Johns Updike’s A&P. Another suggested reading. I’m going there to re-read now.

Before I started blogging I was a little hinky about this stuff. I mean, really. Who cares about the doldrums of my life? (apparently you, you big suckers!!) And, what do I care about YOUR doldrums? (I do…I deeply care. jen is a deeply caring person. jen is a deeply voyeuristic person.) (okay, I just looked up “voyeur” and that is not me. criminy! I like to watch…you know like look at your life, but I don’t really want to see your sex organs. or do i???)

BUT! Over the year, or almost year or whatever (I was somewhere else before I was here)…I find that this is deeply gratifying. And, even though I sometimes have trouble pinpointing the exact definition of our relationship, I realize that I definitely have made some friends out here. And, Erin, you certainly are one of those people!

Because see…Erin makes stuff, like grape jelly. And, do you know who likes grape jelly? Me. And do you know who sent me some grape jelly? Erin. I can only assume this is because she loves me and we are meant to be together. PLUS, I am very easy, and believe that friendship can be bought with grape jelly. And, heartwarming (albeit sloppily handwritten ;)) cards. With Mobile Stations on them. So there. I heart Erin.

This jelly? Ooooooooooooooo. Mmmmmmmmmm.

And there is Heather, whom I have loved for almost a year. This is why: Heather has fantastic shoes, and rubs elbows with the likes of Hanson. (okay, you know I love you for more reasons than that…xo)

I met Cool Beans through another blog we frequent. We bonded over our love for Justin Timberlake. This girl has helped me, on more than one occasion, fix this here site and help me navigate WP. Thank you!!

I went to my little brother’s soccer game tonite. I say “little”, though this kid is 6’3″. He’s not so little…

So the game ends and the team is on the other end of the field, and we (the crowd) are all clapping in that Oh, This Was So Fun To Watch You All Kick That Ball Around kind of way and then all of the sudden, the team starts walking TOWARD us in a line. And, they are clapping for us.

This was new for me. New and WONDERFUL!!

I’ve made a decision. And, that is I like people to clap for me. I think MORE people should clap for me. It makes me feel Good. I like to feel good. And, Happy. Nothing is better than people clapping for you when you have done very little to deserve applause.

I had to take a test at work the other day. Nobody clapped for me when I was done. What a bust.

Yes. A test. I told my Dear Boss that this is absurd. I didn’t further my higher education for this very Test Taking reason. Tests suck. Yes. A test. At work. A test, I will tell you, for something that normally, and ritually, a computer does for us. There is this program that does this Thing when we input the numbers, and it gives us the answers! Why, then, must you teach us how to do it long hand? I embrace the technology!! Seriously, if there was a computer program that would take care of my kid and watch tv for me? I would sit around with my hands down my pants and slobber.

I am lazy. I’m not gonna lie.

Okay, so in my heart I am lazy. In my life I actually DO stuff. But, I don’t like it. I may be vaccuming on the outside, but on the inside? I’m slobbering.

Tests are probably the main reason that I went into Theatre. After I had completed my core requirements, and realized that I hated teenagers, memorizing lines and saying them out loud to a bunch of people who would eventually clap for me…this just seemed the obvious path for me. Two roads diverged in a path and I? I took the one where there were no tests. Because I hate them.

Not that there were NO tests. I mean, there were. But they weren’t hard or anything. The hardest part about Performing Arts, for me, was that they expected me to paint the sets. And, I’ll tell you: I did not get into this to work. Sheesh. Painting sets is for people who can’t act. Der.

Not that I ever wanted to use this gift in the Real World. I didn’t want to move to New York and light up the big screen. It was something I was good at. It allowed me to live the college dream. I am thankful for that. It made college fun! But, then again, so did the Marijuana!

In hindsight, I can see what a waste that was. I am always telling Holden not to waste his talents (he is gifted with the music). Which is why we make him take a musicality class, as well as piano lessons. Make him? You ask. Yes. He is eight. My house my rules. Suck it.

I tell Holden that we give Glory to God when we use our talents. And, I really feel that he’s got a gift that just needs to be cultured. When he is old enough (read: when he no longer lives under my roof) he can decide for himself what he wants to do.

Sometimes this makes me feel very hypocritical. But I realize that as we get older, our talents change. I know now that my talent is for being a Good Mother. And, and Excellent Wife. And, I don’t feel bad about that. Meaning, I don’t really feel like I’ve given up my Old Self for this New Self which is different (but not really so much) than who I’ve always been.

I like who I’ve become, and I’m very comfortable in my skin. I try not to get hung up on the Coulda Beens. Because they Aren’t. And, I’m trying real hard to deal in the Now.

So, its okay that I’m not on the Soaps.
And, its okay that every now and then I have to take a stupid test that I’m not even getting and Effing grade on.

I can smile with delite every day of my life, because in the next room? My son is laughing his fool head off watching Freaky Friday, and man, if that doesn’t sound like clapping to me.

I’m not a great writer. I’m not even a good writer. I know that. I didn’t start doing this so I could show my literary prowess. Just now I had to look up the word “prowess” to make sure that I was using it correctly. See? I’m just this girl. Who likes to talk about herself. Because I can.

My husband isn’t exactly Against the Blog. But, he ain’t exactly For it either. “Why does the world need another blog?” he asks. “What if everyone had a blog?” I told him I’d probably read them all. I’m a voyeur that way. Also, I’m narcissistic.

I don’t think he reads my blog. That’s okay with me. If he reads it, that’d also be okay. I’m not doing it for him. I do it for me.

I am pretty sure that women blog because we want people to know us. And, we also like to know about other people. This is a way for us to be able to accomplish both with out simultaneous conversation. You know the kind? Where someone is talking and in the middle of their sentence, you think of something you want to say which is, indeed, pertinent, but doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with what they are saying? We don’t have to worry about that, here. I’m not going to get offended if half way through reading my blog, you remember something you wanted to say. You just say it. Over at your blog, or mine. Whatever.

Not that this should take the place of dialogue. No, no. Not at all. I work. I talk to people. I have “real” friends. I have Big Hands. But I know all those people. I know them know them. I don’t know you all. But, I want to. I want to know EVERYBODY. I’m nosey like that.

I also don’t have any intentionn of ever saying anything of Real Value here. What’s my opinion worth to you, anyway? Nothing. And, that also doesn’t bother me. I don’t care about Influencing people. I would like to make you laugh. That would be great. But, I’m not here for earth shattering revelations.

This is what it is. That’s how I live my life. Sometimes I wonder if that’s a cop out…but I really don’t think it is. I am completely happy Letting It Be.

I was watching those four comics on Comedy Central the other day, and one of them said, and I’m paraphrasing here, If life gives you lemons, make lemonade. And then find the person whose life made them vodka.